Evelyn Emma
Dr. Williamson
ENGL 864
17 June 2014
Improvements
Improving, generally changing something for the better, was a topic of concern in the 19th century; everything, from the state of the poor, to education, to homes and properties could and should be “improved.” This motif is certainly prevalent in Mansfield Park. There is a definite tension between the beauty of what is completely natural and how that state might be modified for a variety of purposes, utilitarian or aesthetic.
It is in the “wilderness” at Southerton where we can see both the challenges and the delights of the completely natural. Initially, the party is happy to go into the woods because it’s very shady and somewhat cooler; it’s comfortable. It is very lush and verdant, fruitful. However, the “wilderness” also obscures sight. It’s difficult for people to find one another after they’ve separated. For Fanny, it’s a lonely place because she’s left behind by Edmund and Mary. It’s also a place from which trespass is possible, as Maria and Henry trespass through a gate (definitely a foreshadowing of future events), not waiting for the proper key to be procured by Mr. Rushworth. It is also where Mary displays her untrained mind in refusing to submit to the laws of physics and time, not being “rational” when Edmund challenges her notions of how far they had walked and how long it had been. Of course, the whole reason they are at Southerton is to help Rushworth decide what kinds of improvements should be made on the estate. The talk, both at the dinner before the visit and on the grounds, is generally fruitless, and what ideas are floated seem destructive rather than constructive, like the cutting down of the avenue of trees. “Improvement” is definitely not always good. Additionally, Fanny never gets to see this particular sight, which was her chief reason for wanting to come to Southerton—to see the avenue before it was cut down. This brings us to another observation; Fanny can’t get as far as she wants to in the natural state.
Some time later in Vol. II, after Fanny has become “pretty” according to Sir Betram, “much improved,” she and Mary Crawford are sitting outside at the Parsonage. Fanny comments on the walk, that it is “pretty” also. The area had formerly been unutilized and not beautiful; she says, “Three years ago, this was nothing but a rough hedgerow….never thought of as anything, or capable of becoming any thing; and now it is converted into a walk, and it would be difficult to say whether most valuable as a convenience or an ornament…How wonderful, how very wonderful the operations of time, and the changes of the human mind!” (223). Very clearly, this passage is not only referring to the actual walk, but it is a tracing of the developments that have occurred in Fanny. She herself has been much improved, by time and also by effort, in mind and body. The differences in Fanny’s environment on these occasions highlight this very positive “improvement.” This positive change is also seen in her position and standing in the Mansfield Park household. In the wilderness of Southerton, she was still someone of very little consequence; even Edmund forgets about her while they are there. In this scene, she has become very important to Mary Crawford, and her position in the Bertram household is much better also. Further, at the end of the chapter, she is invited by the Grants for dinner, which marks the first of her social visits anywhere, which will also be the start of Henry Crawford’s attentions, representing no small rise in her position and possibilities.
Austen seems to certainly be valuing certain kinds of “improvements”. The natural state does not seem useful on its own, but with judicious, regulated care, what is improved can then be both ornamental and useful. And as we have just seen, the “improved” walk can also be a space for inspiration and even transcendence; transcendence is not only the jurisdiction of the completely natural. It is found in an “improved” walk and a regulated mind.
Dr. Williamson
ENGL 864
17 June 2014
Improvements
Improving, generally changing something for the better, was a topic of concern in the 19th century; everything, from the state of the poor, to education, to homes and properties could and should be “improved.” This motif is certainly prevalent in Mansfield Park. There is a definite tension between the beauty of what is completely natural and how that state might be modified for a variety of purposes, utilitarian or aesthetic.
It is in the “wilderness” at Southerton where we can see both the challenges and the delights of the completely natural. Initially, the party is happy to go into the woods because it’s very shady and somewhat cooler; it’s comfortable. It is very lush and verdant, fruitful. However, the “wilderness” also obscures sight. It’s difficult for people to find one another after they’ve separated. For Fanny, it’s a lonely place because she’s left behind by Edmund and Mary. It’s also a place from which trespass is possible, as Maria and Henry trespass through a gate (definitely a foreshadowing of future events), not waiting for the proper key to be procured by Mr. Rushworth. It is also where Mary displays her untrained mind in refusing to submit to the laws of physics and time, not being “rational” when Edmund challenges her notions of how far they had walked and how long it had been. Of course, the whole reason they are at Southerton is to help Rushworth decide what kinds of improvements should be made on the estate. The talk, both at the dinner before the visit and on the grounds, is generally fruitless, and what ideas are floated seem destructive rather than constructive, like the cutting down of the avenue of trees. “Improvement” is definitely not always good. Additionally, Fanny never gets to see this particular sight, which was her chief reason for wanting to come to Southerton—to see the avenue before it was cut down. This brings us to another observation; Fanny can’t get as far as she wants to in the natural state.
Some time later in Vol. II, after Fanny has become “pretty” according to Sir Betram, “much improved,” she and Mary Crawford are sitting outside at the Parsonage. Fanny comments on the walk, that it is “pretty” also. The area had formerly been unutilized and not beautiful; she says, “Three years ago, this was nothing but a rough hedgerow….never thought of as anything, or capable of becoming any thing; and now it is converted into a walk, and it would be difficult to say whether most valuable as a convenience or an ornament…How wonderful, how very wonderful the operations of time, and the changes of the human mind!” (223). Very clearly, this passage is not only referring to the actual walk, but it is a tracing of the developments that have occurred in Fanny. She herself has been much improved, by time and also by effort, in mind and body. The differences in Fanny’s environment on these occasions highlight this very positive “improvement.” This positive change is also seen in her position and standing in the Mansfield Park household. In the wilderness of Southerton, she was still someone of very little consequence; even Edmund forgets about her while they are there. In this scene, she has become very important to Mary Crawford, and her position in the Bertram household is much better also. Further, at the end of the chapter, she is invited by the Grants for dinner, which marks the first of her social visits anywhere, which will also be the start of Henry Crawford’s attentions, representing no small rise in her position and possibilities.
Austen seems to certainly be valuing certain kinds of “improvements”. The natural state does not seem useful on its own, but with judicious, regulated care, what is improved can then be both ornamental and useful. And as we have just seen, the “improved” walk can also be a space for inspiration and even transcendence; transcendence is not only the jurisdiction of the completely natural. It is found in an “improved” walk and a regulated mind.